


sometimes the things i do astound me

by shoujotachi



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i love old people in love, thats it, they are simply meant to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoujotachi/pseuds/shoujotachi
Summary: Homare is rather content with his life. Until Hisoka Mikage, troublesome and selfish as he is, made him yearn for the one thing he hadn't deemed necessary in years.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Mikage Hisoka
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	sometimes the things i do astound me

**Author's Note:**

> As always... a sweet song happens to make me think of these two! like someone in love by bjork is reccomended to listen to while reading this :) likes and kudos r totally appreciated!

Homare feels he's far past his primetime for romance and things of the like. He's inching to the stale age of thirty, and he's really starting to lose the memories of all his past lovers. There's simply no rush from the thought of love like there used to, and there's no real desire either. 

He doesn't feel like he's lacking anything, and he's rather content with the state of his life.

Or, he _was_ rather content with the state of his life.

Until Hisoka Mikage, troublesome and selfish as he is, made him yearn for the one thing he hadn't deemed necessary in years.

It was just unfair. It was frustrating, how someone could tear down the iron will he'd spent the first half of his twenties carefully building.

After his last heartbreak, in the spring of his freshman year of college, he'd safely decided he would never pursue romance again. A poet without love can produce works just as beautiful as those with. There was no reason to pursue something that would end up fruitless, anyway.

Homare would say he was doing quite well, too, only fancying those he happened to meet eyes with once or twice on the street. It was easier that way, he thought, without the pressure of being able to empathize with someone else, or understand someone else. A robot like him wasn't capable of those kinds of relationships.

So, why was it that these relationships felt attainable now? Why did Hisoka Mikage, ungrateful and stubborn, stir something so fervently inside him? 

Undeniably, his near and dear Winter Troupe did him a nice maintenance, fixing his once malfunctioning heart. Nonetheless, it was frustrating. Homare is a man of his vows, and he hated that one measly sleepy boy could make him drop it all in a second.

Being a maiden in love wasn't easy either. He found his mind wandering far too often, mostly to the object of his affection. What it'd be like to hold him close, to press a kiss on his lips before they sleep at night, to treat him like a lover. Hisoka wouldn't allow that, though. Probably.

All of his latest poems seemed to be about being in love, too. Azuma probed around, trying to get an answer out of him but he's smarter than that! Or, at least he hopes so. Azuma knows a little _too_ much at any given moment.

And like that, Homare's innocent pining has persisted.

He believes he's done a great job hiding it, too. It's not like he acted any different outwardly. Only his insides felt weird sometimes.

And he had been doing a great job hiding it. Until Hisoka hit him with the, "...What is this, Arisu?"

Homare freezes. It could only be one of two things: his stash of slam poetry DVDs that he watched religiously during his emo phase, or his poetry notebook.

He would've greatly preferred the first one, but sometimes we aren't always given what we want.

He turns around to see Hisoka flipping through the pages, stopping at some to read the contents.

Homare dashes towards Hisoka and gently snatches the small book out of his hands. "Aha! This is top secret info, Hisoka. For me to write, and for you not to see!"

"...You're never secretive about your poetry, though." Hisoka frowns a little. "Who were those about?"

Well, in the best word choice Homare knows how to use right now, fuck. He hadn't expected Hisoka to get a real look at the pages. Was this karma for taking Tsuzuru's fancy new pen the other day? He gave it back anyway!

"...I didn't know Arisu had someone. Why didn't you tell any of us?" Maybe it's Homare's imagination, but Hisoka seems almost dejected.

"No! No, Hisoka. Wrong! Absolutely not! Non! Bzzzt! It's nothing like that." Homare crosses his arms, making an X.

"Oh. Well," Hisoka yawns mid-sentence, "That still doesn't answer the question... Who are they about?"

"Since when are you so interested?" Homare laughs.

"...We're close. It's only natural to be interested." Hisoka looks away sheepishly. 

Homare's heart rate quickens, and his face feels suddenly way too hot.

Close? What does _that_ mean? Well, he knows what that means, but _what_ does it mean?

"Well. Yes, I do suppose you are right, Hisoka!" Homare recites swear words in his head like they're prayer. How is he gonna divert the conversation? 

"Huh!" He glances at his clock, " Would you believe that I am just absolutely famished right now! Would you like to join me for lunch?" 

Hisoka shrugs, "I suppose..."

He pats himself on the back internally. Great job, Homare! There's nothing you can't do!

The walk to the cafe was a long one. Homare sweat bricks the entirety of the walk, which was rather uncomfortable for both parties, considering it was snowing outside. 

Homare didn't blame himself for this, alas it was a stressful situation and he had never planned on voicing his true feelings for Hisoka, at any means! Sweating bricks is totally normal and acceptable! Even when it's way too cold outside!

They reached the cafe and took their seats, ordering shortly after. For Hisoka, a hot chocolate, extra marshmallows. As for Homare, he was fine with a simple americano.

After a while, Hisoka spoke. Guess the copious amount of sweat wasn't enough of a deterrent, Homare thinks.

"...You never told me who the poems were about." Hisoka takes a sip of his hot chocolate and sets the cup down lightly. 

"Oh! I suppose I didn't, huh!" Homare has the urge to bang his head against the table a few times, but the table is glass after all, and he'd rather not pay for damages.

"...Yep." Hisoka lays his head on the table.

"Feeling sleepy?" Homare chuckles.

"A little..." And like that, Hisoka dozes off. 

Homare: 2. Hisoka: 0.

The walk back from the cafe was much more serene. Homare's positive that Hisoka's forgot about this whole poetry thing by now. There's no way he'd ask about it again.

His inner monologue is interrupted by Hisoka. 

"...Arisu. Who were the poems about?"

God almighty! He's like a broken record! Who knew Hisoka had such persistence? 

"Ah! Well! I shall most certainly tell you. But first—" Homare pauses when Hisoka cuts him off abruptly.

"Enough with the stalling. I'm not stupid, Arisu..." Hisoka stares Homare right in the eyes.

It hurts! How can he be disingenuous to those pure eyes?!

"Ah... Well, I guess there's no point in stalling anymore, huh?" Homare sighs, "The poems in that book—" He's cut off again, by Hisoka.

"Wait!" Hisoka diverts his gaze, "...You don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable."

There's no way he couldn't spill the beans now. Not when his once cold heart was now a pile of mush sitting between his ribcages.

"No! I want to tell you, Hisoka." He grabs Hisoka by the shoulders, "It's you! It's about you."

You know what they say, silence speaks louder than words.

"...Surprise?" Homare tries to do jazz hands, but his hands are far too shaky.

"Pfft..." Hisoka laughs, "Ahaha!"

Homare looks around. Is there a hidden camera somewhere? Is he missing the joke?

"Oh, god... Arisu. I'd spent all day worrying... I was so scared..." Hisoka's laugh is one of relief.

"Oh dear? Scared of what?" Homare doesn't get it.

"Moron... that you were in love with someone..." Hisoka sighs.

"But I am. With you." Homare replies, bluntly.

"Arisu... you idiot." Hisoka rubs his temples, "...How direct do I have to be? I am... also in love with you. And I was scared that you had fallen for someone who wasn't me."

"Oh." A lightbulb turns on in Homare's head. "Oh!"

"No way! You?! And me?!" Homare points back and forth between them, "No! What!?" 

"What! Me and you?! In... in love?!" Homare exclaims, "How absolutely bananas!"

"...I really wish you wouldn't use the word bananas while we're confessing our love to each other." Hisoka sighs, for what seems like the millionth time in a day.

"Hmm..." Homare hums, "I've decided! We are going to be together forever!" 

"...Where's my say in this?" Hisoka laughs.

"I just have to make sure you never fall out of love with me! I know you can't, I'm just too irresistible, after all." Homare strikes a pose.

"I don't want to hear that from the one who sweat bricks earlier. So gross..." Hisoka rolls his eyes.

Homare suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of love, and he can't quite think of the way to show it.

So, he does in the best way he can. 

He squeezes Hisoka as tightly as possible, and presses a light kiss to the top of his head.

Hisoka relaxes in his arms, and he smiles. 

Hisoka thinks Homare was right after all.

How could he ever resist his perfect poet?


End file.
